The Fear of Heights
by MerpTheMerp
Summary: A splash of color in the goings and comings of Mihael's day. Maybe that was what he needed. Or maybe he simply needed the right blend of the contrasting colors... MelloXMatt


Mihael Keehl. It was the name given to the teen at birth and taken away not seven years later by a man under the initial L. Given the choice, Mihael would not have chosen the life he now leads. He would want a real home with real parents. Not a costly mansion run by an uncaring and cold caretaker, working day after day to succeed a small white-haired boy and become the second reclusive letter L. There were perks to the life, of course. One perk, actually. His best friend whom Mihael would have never met had his parents not been murdered.

Oh, and chocolate. Under no normal circumstances would Mihael be allowed to indulge in as much chocolate as he does now. But it was simply another perk of being a Wammy child. Living in a mansion, learning about anything and everything he could get his greedy hands on, scarfing down bar after bar of chocolate until he felt like puking (and even more after that point had passed), rooming with his best friend. It was life to Mihael.

And yet… He wanted more.

More fun, more love, more of a sense of accomplishment. Every year, Mihael earned better grades in his effort to beat the white haired child he held so much contempt for yet never had he been acknowledged by his idol. Never had Mihael felt love from his caretaker nor his idol nor anyone else in the building other than his best friend. Never had Mihael had true fun. Everything they did at Wammy's - sports, games, field trips, lessons - had some sort of lesson behind it. Could the children not just go to the zoo for the sake of seeing a monkey scratch his butt or a penguin slide on his belly across the plastic "ice" in an effort to reach the water?

At times, the immense boredom that Mihael felt was enough to make him want to run away. Day in and day out, it was the same thing. Work. Work. Work. It was boring. Maybe Mihael didn't want more. Maybe he simply wanted change. A splash of color in the black and white goings and comings of his day.

"Mello?"

That was his name now. _Mello. _He scorned the name. Mihael did not choose the name so why should he answer to it? He wouldn't were it not for the voice calling his alias.

"Mello."

"What, Matt?"

"I'm bored."

"Thank you for the update," Mello rolled his eyes.

"What do you want to do?" Matt asked.

_Leave, _Mello thought immediately but said, "I don't know."

Matt paused. "Let's go outside."

"I don't feel like it."

"Too bad," Matt shrugged, standing from the bed and popping his back. The cracks could be heard from across the room at Mello's bed where the blonde lay on his back, occasionally snapping off a piece of chocolate from the foil-encased bar. The redheaded roommate nearly skipped across the room, ripping Mello from his bed (causing the reluctant roomie to drop his chocolate) and walking out the bedroom door with the infuriated teen being dragged in his wake.

"Matt, I don't want to go outside. My chocolate…"

"If I can put my games down for a few hours without suffering from major withdrawal symptoms," Matt smirked, "you'll live without your feminine candy."

"It's masculine in France," the blonde protested weakly as he was carted off to where ever his best friend had in mind. And yes, le chocolat is a masculine word.

"It's feminine where we live and the sooner you admit it, the better."

As the two stepped into the sun, a rare occurrence in their portion of England, Matt realized what he wanted to do. At Wammy's children were mostly forbidden from doing a variety of things such as journeying into the city without written permission from the caretaker himself and keeping pets in their rooms. Matt was never one for rules. How could a carefully sheltered teenager such as himself resist the temptation the multiple story tree released?

Matt stretched his lanky arms up and grasped the thick lower tree branch. With what little upper body strength he possessed, he pulled himself into the tree and began climbing.

"Matt, you're going to get yourself killed."

"If being seriously hurt wasn't one of the risk factors," Matt panted slightly as he hitched himself onto yet a higher branch, "why bother?"

"Because we're not idiots?" Mello tried.

"Don't lie to yourself, Mells," Matt teased. "It's not good for you."

"Son of a…" and Mello was climbing the tree even if it was just to strangle Matt.

Higher and higher they climbed. The branches they first set foot on seemed so far down but Mello wouldn't know. He never looked down. Mello could conquer anything he set his mind to (and if luck was on his side) but heights were one thing he did not plan on facing. Were it not for his anger at being insulted (jokingly, of course, but still), he wouldn't have pulled himself onto the stable limb without a second thought. Still climbing, he did not think of the height but focused more on the soles of the boots above him and the branch he could stand on next.

"Try and catch me, _Melly_," Matt teased.

"Shut it, _Matty_."

"Ouch," Matt hissed with a smirk on his unseen lips. "That one hurt deep, Mells. Like a kiddie pool."

"You're an ass, you know that?" Mello panted. Eating only chocolate was taking a bit of a toll on him.

"Yes, I do," Matt laughed, "and it's sexy." His laughter echoed slightly off the branches. Almost there. The top wasn't far away. Matt had never actually been up so high in the tree. Mello or Roger usually prevented his ascent to the top. But this time… no one would.

"I'm going to kick you when I reach you," Mello grumbled. His breath was coming in slightly faster pants now. For the love of all that is chocolate, he need to get in shape. This was ridiculous.

"The problem is," Matt grunted as he pulled himself to a particularly high branch, "you have to reach me first. So far, your failure has been categorized into the 'epic' section."

"Do you use big words to make up for what you lack in the underwear drawer?" Mello snickered.

"You would know, pervert." Just a few more branches and Matt would be at the top. He glanced down to see how Mello was doing and saw that he was merely a branch beneath him. Within arms' reach, he expected. Thankfully, the blonde was too focused on coming up with comebacks and climbing to realize that the prize he sought was a foot above.

"And I'm the idiot…," Matt mumbled to himself. Another pull and he was at the top.

…

Holy biscuits. Had England always been this big and bright? Matt pulled his goggles up from around his neck and placed them over his eyes. Much better.

"I'm going to push you out of this freakin' tree," Mello grunted as he pulled himself up beside his best friend. Looking around, he realized that Matt's bloody and broken body sitting at the trunk of the tree would ruin the moment. He could wait until they were back down before beating his roommate into unconsciousness.

They could see what they thought might be all of the country from the top of that tree. All of it was illuminated by the rays of the sun, brightening everything and casting a this-is-unreal aura about the place. It was simply beautiful and even though the two boys were "manly men", they still had to admit it was pretty at least. The trees were swathed in colors of yellow, highlighting the natural green they were. The buildings off in the distance, magnificent and old buildings from long ago and skyscrapers alike, were brightened, the dull gray of the office buildings somehow made cheery. Fields of grass and flowers, the shiny metallic coverings on the cars, the slight layer of smog surrounding some of the cities… all were made unrealistically gorgeous in the afternoon light.

From inside the orphanage, a young white-haired child sat in a halfway mock of the fetal position, one foot dangling from the plush panda chair. A hand was outstretched, hovering above the chess board. At the bottom of the board closest to the child was a small finger puppet with as equally starched hair and clothing as its counterpart. At the top, a white tile separating them, were two puppets. One bore an evil smirk with plastic blonde hair painted upon his head, a black waffle-printed vest adorning his body. The other had bright red hair and a goofy smile on his face. The body was mostly striped with a small brown vest painted on. In the "pocket" of the vest was a miniature electronic game, one that Matt found himself completely absorbed in most of the time.

Near smiled slightly. It was a small smile, mind you, but a smile nonetheless.

"So close," he muttered. He felt saddened, despite the smile, for reasons unknown even to himself. Even watching the two teenagers, one being a self-proclaimed enemy of the child and the other his neutral best friend, having fun with a simple tree climbing race, Near felt sad. He had no friends apart from his mechanical robots and stuffed animals (most of which were hidden away from the prying eyes of the blonde). He wanted friends. He wanted… Mello.

But Mello didn't want him. Near supposed the next best thing was wanting happiness for Mello. He supposed he would just have to live with Mello's decision. But that was a thought for another time. Now he was focused on winning his one-player, three-contestant game. Although the game wasn't quite over yet, he was a losing contestant with little hope to pull out in the end.

Back in the treetop, Matt sighed contentedly. He could stay up there for quite some time but unfortunately, his body needed sustenance in the form of solid food. Thinking about chocolate (it was hard not to when his best friend, standing not half a foot from him, smelled of the dark treat) wasn't helping either.

"Alright Mells," Matt sighed. "Let's go back down."

"I kind of like it up here," Mello said, still staring across the vast landscape. "Do we have to?"

"Would you like Roger to cut our butts off and hang them over the fireplace?"

"… You've been watching too much Spongebob, haven't you?" At Matt's confused glance, Mello continued, "You know, when Spongebob and Patrick are painting Mr. Krabs' living room and he threatened to cut their butts off if they…" He trailed off knowing Matt wasn't paying much attention. "Never mind. Let's go."

Matt began the descent down, carefully placing his feet firmly on each branch before removing his hands from the previous one. A few feet down, he looked up to see how Mello was doing and was met with a pair of horror-struck eyes.

"Mells?"

Mello did not move.

"What's wrong?" Matt asked. "You look like some werewolf or vampire or pixie-fairy thing is standing at the bottom of the tree, waiting to attack, maim, and/or kill me."

"H… H…" Mello stuttered.

"What?"

Mello shook his head, eyes not diverting from whatever horror was behind Matt.

"Mello, seriously," Matt laughed nervously. "What's wrong?"

"I-I can't, Matt."

"Can't what?"

"I can't go down."

"Why not?" Matt asked.

"H-h-heights."

"…"

"…"

"You're seriously afraid of heights?"

"Y-yes," Mello replied.

Matt began laughing hysterically. He barely kept his grasp on the branches as giggles wracked his body.

"It's not funny, Matt!"

"Of all the things to be scared of, Mells," Matt giggled, "you're scared of _heights_?"

"At least I didn't have a wet-the-bed dream about Mario and Luigi hiding in the closet with chainsaws," Mello snapped back.

Matt ignored the insult. "Touchy…"

"ONLY A BIT!"

"Calm down, Mells," Matt said slowly, climbing back up.

"Calm down? Calm down? You want me to calm down?" Mello screamed. "We're in a fucking tree a hell of a lot of stories in the air and you want me to CALM THE FUCK DOWN?"

"Mello," Matt said sternly. "Take a deep breath. Jeez… You're going to give me gray hair and you're older than me."

"Matt." Mello stared directly into his best friend's eyes. Grasping his upper arms, he said, "I cannot deal with heights." Mello, even though he would deny it outright when asked about it later, had tears in his eyes. Barely noticeable, mind you, but clearly seen to his best friend. "I can't do it, Matty. I just can't."

Matt knew Mello had an irrational fear, one that simply came from nowhere. Mello had never been in a position that would cause him to be afraid of heights as far as the redhead knew. Was Mello simply crazy?

"You're really acrophobic, aren't you?" Matt asked.

"DON'T USE BIG WORDS ON ME AT A TIME LIKE THIS, YOU ASS!" Mello screamed. "Just get me down!"

Matt blinked a few times to clear the ringing from his ears. Mello could scream really loud when he was pissed. "Alright, alright. Don't get your knickers in a knot. Take a deep breath and-"

"Scream?"

"NO. DO NOT SCREAM."

"Then what the hell _am_ I supposed to do?"

"Stay calm?" Matt suggested. Sensing Mello was about to scream again, Matt clasped a hand over his friend's mouth. He leaned close to Mello's face. "Scream again and I kill you after mugging you for hearing aid money."

Mello's eyes widened but not because of the proximity between the two. The hyperventilating blonde was still squeezing Matt's arms and Matt was holding onto the branch with one hand. One sweaty, slippery hand.

Mello screamed, not caring that he sounded like the world's most frightened seven-year-old girl even though he was a fifteen-year-old teenage male, and clung to the vertical trunk with all his might. Matt was thrown slightly off balance by Mello's sudden movements and clung to the branches again. Mello's girlish tendencies posed a slight (translation: EFFING HUGE) problem.

Matt's mind went into overdrive. His best friend was having a melt down quite a few stories in the air with nothing to support his weight other than a few flimsy branches, some of which were already straining. Either Matt would have to carry him, or he'd be stuck up there until the fire department could coax him out of the tree without major damage to themselves.

"Mells, you've got to listen to me," Matt said slowly. Mello nodded, eyes squeezed tightly shut as his fingernails dug into the poor bark. "You have to get on my back."

"What?" His eyes snapped open and he looked at the lunatic he had for a roommate.

"Either get on my back so I can carry you down or start climbing," Matt said.

"I…"

"Mello."

The blonde glanced down. Sweet juice… Why did the tree have to be so fucking tall? Gulping, he asked, "How am I going to get on your back?"

"You'll just have to climb on."

Mello glared pointedly. "Thanks, Captain Obvious."

"You're welcome, Lieutenant Sarcasm."

Mello gulped and looked at the ground again. A twinge of vertigo hit and he pressed his back to the vertical trunk again. "Okay, Matt. Turn and let me hop on."

Matt half-turned as he kept the hand previously holding Mello's mouth outstretched to help his best friend across the small gap. Mello took the hand and bent his legs slightly. He pushed out and-

"MELLO!"

One of the branches beneath Mello's boots snapped. The blonde slipped, the solid bark beneath his feet no longer there to support his weight. Gravity began pulling him down between the newly created gap in the branches and Matt instantly tightened his hold on Mello's hand and the branch the opposite hand was clinging to. Sweet juice, the teenager was glad he had fast reflexes.

Mello was too scared to scream. He was too scared to do much of anything, in fact. He could feel the blood oozing out of a small cut on his hip and the death hold Matt had on his fingers but he could not feel anything else other than petrifying terror.

Matt, with one arm, began pulling Mello back to the safety of his branch. The chocolate addict was dead weight. He wasn't moving, wasn't helping.

"Mello! Snap out of it and help me, damn it!"

Mello didn't quite know what he was doing (or who was making him do this) but he planted his foot into the side of the tree and kicked himself into the cradle between Matt's arm and his body. Matt noticed he was shaking horribly (who wouldn't be).

"Shhh, Mells. It's okay," Matt soothed. "Calm down." Matt inched is way from Mello's grip and turned. "You'll have to get on and this time, I promise you the branch won't break."

Mello wrapped his arms around Matt's neck, his legs wrapping around Matt's waist. In his vice-like grip, Matt could hardly breathe but so long as Mello was safe, Matt found that he couldn't care less about his own predicament. What were a couple of breaths compared to Mello's safety?

As Matt began descending, Mello buried his wet face in the crook of Matt's neck, silently thanking whoever might be out there. The blonde was terrified of heights. That was obvious to anyone. Whenever he needed to travel to solve a minor case, Matt sat in the window seat so Mello wouldn't start screaming (because Matt always came even when Mello say "FUCK NO!"). The chocolate addict really did love Matt, quirks and all, because Matt loved Mello. And if a gamer could love a temperamental blonde with more mood swings than a pregnant woman (and a gun no less), then Mello supposed he could love the gamer back. But when it came down to basics, how did Mello love Matt? Friendship or possibly more?

Or, since Mello was, after all, in the teenage years, could the blonde just be experiencing a variety of hormones flooding his system? Could these hormones, if that was the case, simply be flowing out of the wrong outlets? Maybe all the blonde really needed was a girl. A cute girl. One with big green eyes and dark red hair and a slightly feminine face (a rather odd sight on a female, having only a slightly feminine face). One that liked to wear stripes and-

Was it just him, or was he describing the best friend to whom he was clinging so desperately to?

"Mells, it's okay," Matt chuckled slightly for reasons unknown to "Mells". He found nothing funny about the situation (which, might he remind you, consisted of two teenage boys standing at the top of a 100 plus foot high tree). "Calm down."

"Calm down?" Mello croaked. He pulled his head up and looking at the side of the gamer's head. "Are you on drugs? What part of this is okay? And what part of this is funny?"

"You," Matt laughed.

"So what, my bawling is hysterical to you?"

"No!" Matt said soberly. "Just you in general. The way you react to this is, I suppose, what's funny at the moment."

"I don't think it's funny in the least!"

"Maybe not in the regular definition of 'funny', it's not."

"In what fucking definitions is it funny?" Mello asked. "Because I'd like to find these definitions and the crack face who invented them and shoot them both!"

"So you're going to shoot me?"

"… No."

"Why the delay before you spoke?" Matt asked. "Are you considering it?"

"Drop me and I won't have to consider it anymore," Mello said.

"Because you'll be dead… at the bottom of the damn tree…"

"…"

"…"

"… That's not what I meant," Mello said.

"I know," Matt said. Twenty feet from the ground. Where was Roger to scream at them for being up there in the first place? He knew someone had been watching them ascend. He had felt it.

Mello tightened his arms and pressed his cheek against Matt's. The redhead could feel the wet lines running down the cheek beside his but didn't comment on it. Mello never cried around anyone and made sure of it. He probably thought Matt didn't dream it possible for Mello to even have tear ducts. But he did and Matt often heard it even with the shower running.

Ten feet away.

"Nearly there," Matt said. The branches down here were thicker and although he couldn't wrap his hands around them anymore, they were easier to cling to.

Mello nodded and pressed his cheek more firmly against his roomie's. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Carrying my fat ass down the tree."

"Mello, I think you're underweight," Matt laughed. "Fat is the farthest thing. And is it just me, or do we sound like two girls standing in front of the bathroom mirror at a public school, body bashing ourselves? Or in this case, you."

"I can bash you too."

Matt raised his eyebrows not that Mello could see from his position. "How so?"

"… You're too effing tall."

"Oh no…?" Matt tried. "So I'm tall. Don't blame me."

"You actually like the taste of milk, you sick freak," Mello laughed. "I reserve the right to blame you completely and fully."

"Why is my height a problem for you?"

"No reason," Mello said. Why did he even bring it up? What problem was it to him? Matt's height had nothing to do with Mello. If anything, it would pose a problem for the girls he dated.

A miniature flood of rage and jealousy swept through Mello's thin frame as cliché as it sounds. Mello didn't want Matt to leave him. He was a jealous and selfish being. He was raised that way. If his best friend left, Mello would follow him (and then kill him for leaving). It was the same way with Matt. When Mello went somewhere, Matt went with him. They didn't know why and suspected they never would but it was a comforting thought nonetheless.

But the jealousy… Where had it come from and why on earth should the thought of Matt kissing someone bother him?

_Kissing someone that isn't me… _Oh hell. Was Mello really going to have this inner debate with himself _now?_

"Are you okay?" Matt asked. They were less than five feet from the ground now. He could feel Mello shrug. "You're kind of… tense." He placed his foot on solid ground again and Mello hopped off and began walking back to the orphanage immediately. That was Mello for you.

Matt gave a small shrug and pull his game from the pocket of his vest, turning it on and starting to play again. He started walking back towards the house, completely absorbed in his game.

Mello, on the other hand, was already in the orphanage. Once entering the doors, he nearly sprinted to the shared room. With the door slammed shut and the lights off, he sat on his bed and simply started thinking.

Why had he run off? What on earth could he possibly have been scared off at that point? He was already on flat, solid ground so heights obviously weren't an issue. Could it have been Matt? Was he scared of his own screwed up emotions towards his best friend? Was it even possible for Mello to love a guy the way Mello may or may not love his best friend?

Mello was not gay. It simply wasn't possible. Mihael Keehl, son of the leader of the mafia (well, ex-son but the son of a previous mafia leader nonetheless), gay? It didn't seem correct in Mello's mind.

And yet it did.

It made perfect sense to him. He loved his best friend more than he probably should but what did that matter to him? A lot of the children at the house, with no proper parental guidance, had developed weird quirks and habits that made them different. Was sexuality one of the many things influenced by parents? Or was it simply hardwired into his noggin that he liked those of the male gender rather than those of the female? He didn't know and he knew he probably wouldn't ever but given the situation, should he act? And if he did, what would Matt's reaction be to his best friend suddenly kissing him? Would he kiss back or push the blonde away, shunning him for being homosexual?

No, that last one was completely irrational. Matt would never do that, would he? Mello supposed the only way to find out would be to actually kiss his best friend.

Now, under normal circumstances, Mello had ungodly amounts of confidence. When it came to things like this… he was just as screwed as every other teenager out there. Not the most convenient of times to act like a wimp.

Suddenly, the door to the bedroom opened and the lights were flipped on. In walked the teen giving Mello a good majority of his mental aggravation at the moment. Red hair still messy, vest still lopsided, striped shirt underneath still wrinkled. Dirt on his boots, jeans ripped beyond repair, eyes glued to the video game in his hands. The look was Matt and would always be Matt. He was not a slacker. He simply lacked the want to do his work and kick himself to the top. With little to moderate effort, he could surpass Mello and Near and become the next L but his loyalties to Mello stopped him from doing so (accompanied with that lack of enthusiasm when it came to work). Should Mello pass Near, Matt would kick it up a notch and jump to second but until then, he would remain third. And Mello knew this. Selfishly, he was happy Matt would sacrifice his grades for Mello simply because he wanted to remain friends (again, no enthusiasm contributed).

"Hey, Mells," Matt said, closing the door with his foot and plopping himself on Mello's bed without looking up from his game. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"You don't sound like it."

"How so? I said one word."

"I know you," Matt said. The volume on his game was low and small beeps issued from the player. It was the only sound in the room other than breathing, one at a normal, easy pace as the other inhaled and exhaled rather nervously.

"I'm fine," Mello said. He licked his dry lips. Why was Matt affecting him now?

"Sure?"

"Yep."

"…"

"…"

"Positive?"

"Matt."

The redhead looked up at his blonde friend (who had somehow found the nerve to inch closer to his friend). "I'm just asking," he said.

"I know," Mello said, looking directly into Matt's eyes. Mello had always liked looking people in the eye when he talked to them. It was just a habit, probably acquired from his parents through genetics or something.

Matt stared right back and fidgeted a bit. Mello narrowed his eyes and leaned slightly closer. "Are _you _alright? You're kind of fidgety."

Matt stood abruptly and walked to his bed. "I'm fine, thanks." He sat down.

"You're acting weirder than I was, Matt," Mello said. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying, Mello."

"Yes, you are, Matt."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes."

"No."

"Matt!"

"Mello!"

This was getting the blonde nowhere. _Screw it,_ he thought. He stood and walked over to Matt. Standing over the redhead, he glared down his nose at him. "What. Is. Wrong?" Mello asked.

"Nothing," Matt insisted. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to play my game."

"I do mind," Mello said. "Something's wrong, you're not telling me, and I want to know, damn it."

"Mello, it's fine," Matt insisted. "Nothing's wrong, I swear."

"Something is wrong," Mello said. When Matt didn't reply, Mello groaned. "Why are you not telling me?"

"If it makes you feel better, that's the problem."

"… What?" Mello asked.

"You."

Taken aback slightly, he asked, "How am I the problem?"

"… You just sort of… are."

"That's not a very good explanation," Mello laughed slightly. "Care to explain?"

Matt stood and, standing a few inches above Mello's height, looked down at him. "Because I really want to do something and you won't let me."

"Do… what?"

"This." Matt quickly bent down and pressed his lips against the blonde's. _Huh… he does taste like chocolate._

Mello, in shock, did not move. Matt pulled away and, with a small smile gracing his lips, said, "Weird, huh? But whatever. If you feel like switching rooms because your roommate is pretty much in love with you, go ahead."

"Why would I do that?" Mello asked when Matt started to leave.

"You don't feel the same way."

"Says who?"

"You."

"How did I say that?" Mello demanded to know.

"You didn't move when I kissed you," Matt almost chuckled softly, the words tasting funny on his lips.

"I didn't…" he trailed off. Instead of finishing his sentence, he walked up to Matt, smacked him, and kissed him.

Now as the narrator of this story, I don't think I need to explain to you what this led to (not that, you perverts!). They, of course, started kissing deeper, but simply because I love all of you, I suppose I can tell you.

Matt pressed his lips more firmly against Mello's. Their lips moved in sync, teeth never scraping, soft flesh simply moving together in harmony. Their hearts were racing but they felt oddly calm. Matt's tongue begged for entrance from Mello and the darkly-clad blonde gladly granted it.

This was how Mello and Matt were. There was no real need for the exchange of words as true as they would be. They knew how the other felt and they supposed that was all that really mattered. They had no use for words seeing as that time could be spent doing… other things. Like eating bunnies of the chocolate variety or playing video games. Or something they both now agreed upon: kissing and simply holding each other, suspended in the moment.

And that was how they stood for quite some time. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, they didn't know. They knew they were happy where they were and nothing would tear them apart.

Except maybe the rumbling of Matt's stomach.

Mello pulled away, laughing. His lips were slightly swollen and Matt smiled knowing it wasn't some random girl that did that to Mello.

"Hungry?" Mello asked.

Matt nodded.

Snatching the chocolate bar from his bed (where it had been abandoned earlier in Matt's escape outside), Mello left the room with Matt in tow. A chunk of chocolate was snapped from the bar and small beeps came from the previously abandoned video game as the two walked down the halls, arm in arm.

Maybe this was the solution to Mello's boredom. The splash of color on that previously black and white canvas.

Or maybe it was just the right combination of black and white, like the stripes on Matt's shirt. Black and white. White and black. Either way, it threw Mello's life into unbalance. But it was an equally agreed upon and happily accepted unbalance.

It was just the right combination of black and white for Mello. And with that last thought, Mello and Matt, Mihael and Mail, stepped into the cafeteria.


End file.
